Don't Forget
by Requiess
Summary: AU RxEm. The Cullen's lives have been changed so profusely every time they move back to the desolate town of Forks. When Charlie is assaigned a rape case, it leads the Cullens on a shocking journey they will not soon forget. Full summary inside.R&R please
1. Prologue

_The small town of Forks, Washington was a desolate place, highlighted by the small population who inhabited. The town was mystical and magical, the sunlight hidden by the deep forests and the cloudy skies. Although gloomy for some- it was the perfect destination for the Cullen's. A grim reminder of the past, but joined with all the best hope for the future. _

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The Cullen's were a strong family, having only been brought together by the tragedies of the lives they had once lost. None of them could say they lived a completely happy life, or had never been through the pain not many suffered. When the venom pulsed through their veins, capturing fire and stopping their heart, they felt the worst possible pain- even to the point beyond imaginations. It had been the third time they moved here- the first two times altered their lives as they knew it, but that couldn't happen again. It had been twenty years since they last moved here, and it wasn't going to happen again. No, nothing would mess up their lives this time- or, well, alter it. Well, that's what they thought. Well weren't they wrong?

Rosalie Lillian Hale had the perfect life, until it was shattered and the man who ruined her life decided to Tango on the glass shards of her soul. All was lost, nothing was gained by the sick and cruel hand she was dealt. She was hollow, yet still stayed strong for herself. Her body grew callused, hard for anybody to touch and if they tried- it sure wouldn't be an enjoyable experience for them. She was pitied, but little had she known she didn't know the true meaning of pain. What is it, exactly, about her experience that sets the Cullen's off?

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**A/N- Okay, I know it sounds horrible. I've just been reading a lot of Emmet and Rosalie Fanfic's lately, and discovered that the Edward/ Bella situation except with Rosalie and Emmett was my favorite… plot for a story of their pairing. So, I decided that why not just try out a regular one, except of course what would it be with out a few twists? Okay, so you read this tiny and vague little prologue, so please review and tell me what you think =]**


	2. Broken Princess

**A/N- I usually attempt to wait until I have received some sort of response for a story to actually begin, but I'm so excited with this new idea that I just finished loading the prologue, and I'm ready to continue. Now, this chapter won't be so humorous. Tell me in your *review!* if you think I went in to too much detail. Oh great, now I'm turning in to one of those authors who annoyingly begs for reviews. So while my dignity is already gone, I would just like to ask you to review telling me what you honestly like/dislike about the ideas I write about. Flames are welcomed, as I eat them and then am thus on fire. Remember, the more reviews I get the more I come on this site. I am _extremely _prone to just forgetting about stories and leaving them unfinished without reviews. So how about it? **

**I'd just like to add that I almost found myself entering depression while typing this. I mean, I probably could have found it in me to make it a lot worse. This chapter isn't meant for people who get emotional, like me, so if you scroll down the page a bit I'm sure you can read after the encounter. I'm warning you, though, this is rated M for a reason. **

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"Please . . ." I heard a voice that sounded very much like my own, plea. It was identical to my own, except mine never had sobs chocking the words out. No, my words were said with my dignity in tack, if not floating above the surface. I was Rosalie Lillian Hale, and goddamn it, that name was never associated with begging unless another person was begging _me _to do something.

Then again I wasn't Rosalie Hale anymore, the dignity of the very name was stripped from me- just like the clothes that laid in shreds heaven knows where. My thighs felt numb, which was a heavenly feeling compared to the pain they had to endure to get that way. It was just my thighs that felt numb, though. The rest of my body had slowly yet surely stayed at the same amount of pain tolerance, knowing there was no hope in getting out of it.

Had it been minutes, hours or days I had been pinned against the wall, my insides torn to shreds with every violent thrust that would make me scream out in pain? His thrusts had turned so…incapably frequent that I just kept on screaming, hoping to God someone would hear me. Nobody did though, and I was stuck in the hell. Death sounded wonderful- in fact, if I had my choice at the moment I would have picked it over surviving this. At least in death my pain would be gone, but sure as hell never forgotten.

My sobs were chocking out of my limp body as he continued to ram himself in to me, unable to produce any screams anymore. "Please….Please _stop_!" I managed to cry out in pain, my whole body shattered. I kept on trying to focus on my thighs . . . The wondrous sensation of numbness in thighs.

"Begging won't get you no where's, sweetie." The voice grunted in the most sadistic way possible. The waves of emotion in his voice were confusing. He sounded like he was having pleasure in my suffering- or maybe it was coming from his penis which tore my insides-, but also like he was afraid. Maybe he knew my father . . . Maybe he knew he should be afraid. I sobbed continuously, knowing all I could do was hope. Hope for an outcome that was probably impossible. Hope for life, even though I wanted death with every breathe of my being.

"James," I soon heard a female voice come from behind him from the first time. My eyes were squeezed shut so tight, and I didn't dare open them. With the thrusts continuing, I couldn't be sure if he heard her. "James," I heard her repeat, this time her tone more threatening. It must have been pretty loud, because I even thought of it as a yell, over his animalistic grunt and my sobs and pleas.

I felt as if I was missing out on a secret conversation, but I was in no hurry to figure out why I had that idea. Finally, I felt him leave my vagina and sobbed again- only this time happily- yet still mixed a bit with sadness. My life was over, the pain was still apparent. I heard my voice scream louder than I had in the whole experience, as I felt him ram in to me further, this time bringing his hands up to my shoulders and pushing in sync with his thrust. It was the worse yet, and I thought I heard breaking, from where? God only knows.

Then it was over. He was out of me, his hands off of me, and my body fell to the hard cement ground with a loud _thud_. "Please…." I sobbed out, to my surprise hearing his voice respond. I hadn't excepted that. I was no longer begging him to stop; I was begging for my soul.

"Don't worry princess, you were good- I don't need more _quite_ yet." I felt something cold and hard against my cheek. It felt kind of like a. . . like a kiss, maybe? "Good girl," He said, ignoring my continuing sobs. My mind couldn't process anymore, I felt like I couldn't even breathe. I just laid in the exact position I had fallen in, feeling broken- hollow. The pain had ate me, to the point where I was no longer a human being. No, no more was I still a human. Now, I was the soulless binding of the girl I once was. My fingers on my left hand moved slightly, trying to feel at the crumbling concrete.

I could have laid there for hours, minutes, I really don't know. I wasn't thirty yet, so it couldn't have been days. I felt blood eventually go along the sides of my legs, and yet somehow it made me feel even more grateful that my thighs were numb; so I couldn't feel it at first. I felt warmth slowly leave my body, positive that I was being granted my wish. Death.

That was, of course, until I heard footsteps near me, getting louder with every step. So this was it, I thought. He's coming for another round, I was sure of it. The sobs began to ring in my mouth, feeling like lava. My chest had became numb, and I hadn't even realized. My shoulders to my thighs- completely numb. If it weren't for the bruising kisses and how he slapped me harder than I knew possible, across my face, I would have been doing a whole hell of a lot better accepting his return. After all, maybe he could just have put me out of my misery. Do something positive, surely the first good thing he would have been known to do in his existence.

"Miss," The voice surprised me, to say the least. It was one of shock, and it wasn't familiar. Which meant it wasn't my rapist's, which was a definite good thing. It was male though, so I shrunk back a bit. "Are-Are you alright? I called for help, I swear to god, everything's going to be alright." The voice said.

I just twitched my fingers, hopefully a sign of life so he wouldn't leave me for dead. Then again, I wasn't sure if I wanted to be saved. Part of me would always belong to the sadist who ruined my life. In turn for my life, I didn't even get to know his name. It might have been a good thing, though- as I knew the name would haunt me for the rest of his life. _Princess._


	3. Won't be Tame

**A/N- Okay, so no review response. However, I kept on getting these emails saying people were subscribing to this story. So I know people must be enjoying what I have written so far, I just had hope- I don't know, for some reviews? I swear to you, I love reading well-written reviews- or even ones containing three words! They make my day, and I'll love you forever. So, enjoy and review, please? The story traffic alert lets me know people are reading, but doesn't give me their feedback, unfortunately. **

**Disclaimer-I don't own the series, m'kay?**

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My lips pursed as I tried to ignore the pain. Mind over matter, right? They had me drugged up pretty nicely, but I was still 'to'. My whole body felt numb, but the numbness was better than pain- if only I didn't still _feel _the pain. I didn't know why . . . Or even how, rather, but I could still feel the pain. It was throbbing in to me, still there no matter what. It wasn't the same pain as I had felt the night before, though- no. This pain was elevating, telling me not to move from my place. It was threatening- saying that no matter what I would still be his. Always his, even if he claimed me forcefully. It was never my choice to be violated in a way that would damn me for the rest of my life.

Yes, literally damn me for the rest of my sorry excuse of a life. I had over-heard the doctors talking about this being the most brutal rape case they had ever witnessed. I didn't know what it meant, but I knew it was bad. I didn't care though, I knew my life was over. I knew I survived- but there was no way I was going to be able to have children. With every unmistakably painful thrust he violated me with, I felt my insides ripping. The one thing I, Rosalie Hale, would never have is what I had always wanted most- beautiful children resembling myself. The thing I wanted secondly, was a man to share the children with me.

Ha, like I'd ever find a man who was able to be with me now. The thought of a man touching me after what happened was enough to make my skin crawl. The thought of me actually enjoying his touches…that right there could make me sick alone. I felt useless- I was broken goods, who would want me, anyways?

Then of course, there was always the devilish guys who looked for extreme dating, I told myself in attempt to feel better. The thought never lasted long though, as every time I did so I would always ask myself if I would honestly put up with an adrenaline junky as a husband. What kind of father would he be? Oh yeah, 'Come on son, let's go jump out an airplane and belly-flop in the ocean.' Then of course, it wouldn't matter. If I couldn't have children, why should it matter? Though, in my opinion you could tell what kind of man a given person was just by how he dealt with kids.

I couldn't help but scoff at myself after I let my mind run free. Was _the_ Rosalie Hale getting so pathetic she had desperate dreams of a man air-diving with her never-would-exist son?

The room was always quiet when I wasn't bothered by hospital staff, which left lots of time to think. It may have not been for a positive outcome, though, as every time I tried to picture my children that would never exist, I turned angry when I realized I would never be pregnant. I would never be able to sooth my child in the middle of the night, after a bad dream. I wouldn't be able to protect something that would never exist.

True, most seventeen year old girls didn't worry about that sort of stuff. They couldn't care less whether or not they would have children at this stage of life. No, they were just worried about getting good grades, what their friends thought of them, and their next fling. True, I wasn't all that mutant from the average girl. I did care what people thought of me at times- or rather, what I thought of myself. I couldn't care less of what people thought of me, really. Most of them were just plain jealous. I knew it, they knew it, hell- I guarantee the school guidance counselors knew it! Not that I could blame them, though. I'd have been jealous, too.

Actually, I was jealous. Never of their looks though- and definitely not before it happened, but I knew I'd do anything to get the family I so desperately wanted- and deserved. If I could trade places with anyone, just to make it so it never happened, I would have done it in a heart beat. As long as they didn't have to go through it, that is. I would never wish the pain or self- torture on anybody else. I may have been selfish, but I wouldn't have forced the hand I had been dealt to my worst enemy. Not even Satan himself- no, I'm not that selfish.

To add to the depressing thoughts, there was the thoughts of what he had done to me physically. I was beautiful- probably what had gotten me in to this predicament in the first place. I had refused to look at myself in the mirror because I knew what I would see would be a big hit to my ego. One of the only things that kept me going was the memory of my beauty, and I knew that -no matter how temporary it was- he had ruined my beauty. My mind could not take such a low blow, no matter how ridiculous it may seem, it would ruin my state of mind. I had, however, looked at my left hand. It had only light gray-purple bruising, which looked off but somehow it was still a pretty shade.

All my self-doubt and loathing was alone, which actually made it better. My parents weren't in town- my niece, Lilly-Bear, had a soccer game three hours away, and they actually made it to one of her games. The game was on Saturday, but they were supposed to stay with my brother and sister-in-law until Monday. The hospital staff was worried that they couldn't get a hold of them. Knowing my parents…well, didn't know, was reassuring. I knew how they would react, and I knew it would crush them.

My thoughts about my parent's reaction was interrupted by a door creaking open. I had expected to see a nurse or something- not my parents, as my father's screaming and mother's sobs would have been heard moments before- but was shocked to see a doctor. I know, it was a hospital so the fact that I was witnessing a doctor shouldn't have shocked me, exactly.

However, it wasn't the fact that the man was a doctor that shocked me. It was firstly, the first man that I had seen after the attack besides an EMT- yet, his smile was so reassuring, it made me feel no discomfort . The second reason for my shocked state was his looks. Now, I belonged to an attracting family and everything, but I had never seen such an attractive person before.

I felt like a retard or something, positive that he had seen me senselessly staring at him. Who was I, Rosalie Hale, to stare? Then again, who was to look better than me? I was even hotter than Megan Foxx, and everybody who I knew, knew it. Even people that I didn't know! If they had seen me, then they knew it damn well.

The doctor was so warm with movie-star good looks, and a fatherly charm to him. Of course, he had blonde hair and pale skin - we looked sort of alike, in some ways. Then of course his body was fit, but not too overly muscular. I had to admit, he was pretty hot considering he had to be what- at least twenty-five to be a doctor? I knew for sure I had never seen him before, even with all the drugs they had had me on when I first arrived. "Hello, Ms. Hale." He smiled warmly.

I don't know why but I couldn't answer him. I felt a shiver go down my spine- the expression as I could not feel the majority of my body-, and my eyes forced them away. In about three seconds of awkward silence, I muttered a very miserable-sounding, "Hi." I didn't know what came over me- I wasn't great before but I was better. I hated myself, not some stranger. It was confusing me.

He didn't hesitate to continue speaking, as if he wasn't turned off by my words or something of that nature. "My name is Doctor Cullen, how are you doing today?"

I snickered, whipping my head around so it wasn't facing Doctor Cullen. "How do you think I'm doing?" I spat bitterly. I didn't know why I was turning so mean towards somebody so easily- I just couldn't help it. However, I did know he was an idiot for asking that question.

That had stopped him for a moment in his tracks, and I felt a hidden joy from his silence, for a reason I could not understand. "May I have your attention?" He asked softly, "Ms. Hale, if you would feel more comfortable with a female physician, I can have one assigned to you.

"How about you just leave and don't send anyone in, eh?" My eyes widened when the words came out, shocked at myself.

What was happening to me? Why…Just why couldn't I talk civilly to somebody?


	4. Calling For Him

**Disclaimer-If I owned Twilight, Bella would have been dead, Renesmee (although I love her) would have never been born, and Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper would have been the main characters. Well, they weren't…so I guess it's obvious who owns what sadly. Heh. **

**A/N- I want to make this the longest chapter I have personally ever posted. So because of that, I put my goal at six-thousand words. So of course, as I'm lazy, I added a lot of dialog as my version of a fix it. Haha, so remember to review. Reviews make me smile like a gloomy bear. That made no sense, but whatever. It's one in the morning. Not to mention I had to wake up at . . . five today. Well, yesterday. Whatever, you get what I mean. xD.**

"Uh-Huh,"

"Nuh-Uh,"

"Uh-Huh,"

"Yeah-Huh,"

"Nope,"

"Yep,"

"Not really,"

"Yea really,"

"Nuh-Uh,"

"Yeah-Huh,"

"Nuh-Uh"

"Yeah-Huh,"

"Butt-Muncher,"

"Vagina-Licker,"

"Cock-Sucker,"

"I should kick your ass you little Butt-Sniff!"

"Mama-L-."

I couldn't take it anymore. Thing one and thing two were outside my hospital room, arguing over something I couldn't quite catch. It was incessant, and had gone on four probably twenty minutes. Stupid teenage boys. "Shut the fuck up before I kick both of your asses!" I screamed lazily, my eyes still on the television that I hadn't been able to hear since they started.

_Silence._

I treasured it, and treasured _their_ silence even more when the actor on TV's voice became audible again. I huffed when screams of an unfamiliar origin came seeping in to my room. I closed my momentarily. _Can I ever win?_ I couldn't help but think to myself.

The woman's voice was furious, but also a bit sad. I listened, unable to make out the words as her voice became louder. My eyes shot open when I recognized the voice. Then it was easier to hear.

"I don't give a shit about paperwork! I came from my granddaughter's game to find out that my only daughter has been _**raped **_and I couldn't have been notified sooner? Not to mention the fact this shitty ass town's incompetent officers," She spat the word, "Couldn't even catch the monster who hurt my _baby_? Here's how it's going to work- Nurse Elizabeth," She sneered, "You will take me -personally- to see her, and then I will talk to your god-damned supervisor about this shift's negligence. If it wasn't for this town's shitty ass police department I would report you. But if they can't catch a _monster _in the middle of west- bum-_fuck, _I doubt they could catch anybody else even if they wanted to." She huffed, obviously still pissed.

"Now." She said sternly, her voice slightly calmer although I could hear her obvious pain now. I had to hand it to the nurse, though, for not crying yet. My mother was tough on people -to say the least- and hell, she even scared me upon occasion.

My heart jumped at the thought of my mother seeing me like this- I still hadn't the nerve to look at my reflection, and my beautiful mother seeing her daughter all ugly and torn up… As if it wasn't bad enough on the inside. As if the memories didn't burn within my brain and scar me.

As if I wasn't trying to forget what had happened to me four days ago.

The sound of the silence was cut off by the moans on the television. My head whipped around to the television, only to see some actor sucking on a chicks neck in an elevator. Ew. Not my cup of tea, darlin'. I quickly turned it to animal planet.

The cute bear cubs were playing around and it was damn near the most adorable thing I have ever witnessed. The little frustrated groans they made while playing made my heart sink. I wanted one.

"Rosalie?" A soft voice gasped by the door. My head flew in the direction, staring my mother straight in the eye. She looked as if she had seen a ghost.

"Mother." My voice sounded very matter-of-factly. I didn't like it, and she _did_ seem to be affected by it.

She broke down in sobs, running over to my bed side and placed her thin fingers in my hair. "I'm so sorry baby…I'm so…so sorry." She cried. I couldn't even muster up a response…she just looked so sad. I had to stop myself from crying. Goddamn it, I had spent enough of my rare tears on the selfish bastard. He wasn't getting any more.

What was I supposed to say? _'It's okay, mom. I'm just broken but I'm supposed to feel bad about you blaming yourself?' _I refused. It wasn't my fucking fault she felt bad. That was her own deal, not mine.

Her hand traveled to my cheek as she lightly rubbed it- god knows what bruises I have from when he slapped me. He was a rather average sized man, but yet he was able to muster something in him . . .something so damn strong. Something stronger than the time my older cousin slammed my hand in the car door. I felt magnetized to my mother as I moved my head back and forth slightly, her hand which stayed still rubbing against the sensitive skin. "My dear Rosalie…"She sighed.

My family was a bit up-tight which was why we never really gave each other nicknames. It was upon a rare occasion I'd even call my parents 'Mom' or 'Dad' to their faces. It had always been like that, although it wasn't because of some retarded respect rule or anything. We had mutual…tolerance, and love although more often than not left unexpressed.

My hand uneasily drifted towards hers than lay on my cheek, rubbing her coarse knuckles that predominantly stood out in her boney hands. The tips of my fingers rubbed against her thin long fingers in circular motions. It was very peaceful as I felt her shift and heard a soft scraping noise, as she probably sat down in a chair. I had my eyes closed, feeling the warmth against my skin. It was so different than his I didn't even flinch, and I welcomed the skin to skin contact openly.

I heard her sniff quietly, but everything else was quiet. "I should have been here," She said quietly, although it sounded more like she was blaming herself than apologizing to me.

In a way I was glad. I didn't want her apologizing to me . . .I didn't want her pity. It was my problem now. He had me so fucked up, my personality wasn't even the same. Before I had been Rosalie, the dove. Beautiful with opportunity. Now I was a lioness- much more ugly yet fierce. Still beautiful nonetheless.

Nothing could take that part of me away.

"It's okay, Mother." Lie. What part, exactly, about what happened to me was _okay?_

She didn't respond, just began to move her hand, as if petting me or something but I welcomed it. My hand left hers and went back to my side. It felt oddly okay.

I don't know how long we stayed there like that- I know it was a while. As ashamed as I am to admit it, I sort-of-kind-of fell asleep to my mother's presence. It was peaceful, and I slept without nightmares- finally getting the sleep that I so desperately needed to function properly. Well, as well as I was ever going to function, that is.

I don't think I tossed or turned at all that night, as when I woke up at seven O'clock the next morning, my body felt energized instead of tired. Yes, I know seven O'clock is early. However, considering I fell asleep around five P.M. the previous night, I don't think seven is all that bad.

Nothing really happened for the next few days. I never had to see that twit Cullen, my mother never really left my bedside, and slowly day by day I felt a bit better, although from my waist down felt a bit numb -they probably gave me something for that, I realized slowly.

Wednesday was roughly a week and a half after the attack, and it was probably the worst day yet even if the bruises were yellowing. Around noon, I was told that I was now infertile. I already knew it, but it still hurt. I cried . . . And cried . . .Okay, so I totally spazzed out. I wouldn't allow my mother in to my room, so she left eventually.

I'm not exactly sure what time I fell asleep, but I know I fell asleep while sobbing.

Another week went by, and I still refused to talk to anybody. I knew they didn't do anything to me but there was just this part of me- I couldn't be sure why- that blamed everybody. No, not just hospital staff for ruining the one thing I would want the most(even though they didn't cause is). Not just that bastard, not just the people I knew. I just couldn't stand _people._

I couldn't be sure why I couldn't stand people. It would be lying to say that even if we didn't know each other it wasn't personal. It was as personal as a passionate kiss in the rain. Heh, like The Notebook.

I didn't want to be rude, to be bitter, to be self-loathing. After I was aware of my inability to have children, it was if a million electrical sparks came pouting _out _of my body. When I cried it was as if I was shedding a memory he had to bluntly engraved in to my mind. At night they were re-engraved into my memory as I had nightmares. They weren't just memories…they were these messed up freak-show-bad-dreams. There were only three I had had, but only one kept on re-occurring.

_The darkness was hollow- airless and only slight pressure on my ear drums that didn't hurt me, just didn't feel the most natural. I wasn't sure where I was at first, it was a soundless, noiseless vacuum. I saw a sudden flash of green as I spun around, confused. Suddenly a dark green streak became stable and thin in the far distance._

_I began running- the only thing in the vacuum and I was _not _about to lose it. I ran as far as my feet would take me, pain shooting across my bare feet against the cold ,solid ,black surface. As I ran and ignored the pain, the green streak only appeared a smidge bit bigger. I was frustrated and didn't want to lose the green streak. I had to go to it. I just had to. _

_As if in some geeky martial arts movie, I stopped dead in my tracks, looking down at my small pale feet. Suddenly my legs spread and my left one was in front of me. I pushed up with all my strength with my right leg and I was flying in the air. Well, jumping was more probable but nevertheless it was amazing and graceful._

_The gracefulness of it didn't last for long as I fell right on my ass, on to the hard black floor. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but I just closed my eyes and counted to five, re-opened them and saw it. The green. The green streak- turn wall. I made myself stand, and eerily walked towards the green. As soon as I touched the green, it began to mystify. The cloud of green was gone with one blink._

_I stared in disbelief, my hands waving in front of me, as if to see if there was some hidden color in that spot. I didn't like to dark, truthfully. It freaked me out._

_Suddenly I was on my ass again, legs straight and stretched out in front of me, only overlapping lightly at my ankles. My hands were folded into my lap, and started…changing color? I held my hand about a foot from my face to see if I was imagining things. I wasn't. My fingers tips started to grow.. greener? The green started to darken, and so did the pain. It was like a burning sensation that you'd only expect in death- but yet fascinating. As it reached a dark green, it began to expand to my whole hand and then to the rest of my body. _

_Where the color went, pain followed._

_My legs were green, down to the very tips of my toes. I remembered that as my body began thrashing, my screams not heard in the vacuum. It was almost as bad as the pain he had caused me, but nothing was quite as bad as that. _

Then after whenever I'd have that dream, apparently I would wake up screaming my lungs off. Staff on the night shift would run in, thinking I was in pain or something and I would just ignore them. I wasn't calling them. I was calling _him._

**A/N- Hehe, sorry. I know I said I had **_**the goal **_**of six thousand words, but as you can easily see I didn't quite get there. Oh well, as pathetic as it might seem that actually is the longest chapter I have ever written. They're usually twelve hundred words, maximum. Oh, and to answer any possible questions, Rosalie does have injuries. She just has a very one-tracked mind thinking about how her life had been ruined for it to really sink in with her. Hence the time at the hospital =]**

**Review and I'll give you a virtual cookie. Come on…you know you want one. They're virtually delicious. ;]] **


	5. Speechless

**A/N- Okay, so I was just looking at this story's chapter information and apparently every chapter I've updated with is roughly at least three to five hundred words longer than the previous. I've already written the longest chapter I ever have in the last chapter, so I need this one to be about three thousand. So good luck to myself with writing more than double my average. Heh, that's the reason this took so long to get up.**

**Another thing- For anyone reading this who has also read my story, Fifth Wheel, first off- thanks. 8D. But no, seriously, I've been brain dead on how to continue that story lately. Extreme writer's block, you might say. But I have an idea and I'd just like to let the readers know that even though it may seem that way, I haven't given up on it. **

**That being said, read on. **

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Apparently, when you're stuck in the damn hospital not only do you lose track of time, you also get bored. The kind of bored that makes you aware of every place that the floor may creak in the lightest sense, where the glare of the television is at it's worst, and even marital problems between two of the doctors who I didn't even know. Apparently the she-doctor was sleeping with the he-doctor's brother and he was not too happy.

Yes, _that _sort of pathetic boredom.

I finally resolved into getting my mom to sneak my I-pod in. Well, not really sneak because I wasn't really sure if they were allowed in the hospital, and plus my mom didn't even know about it. I just made myself cut the attitude one day and let my mother into see me. I asked her to bring me my purse that my I-pod Nano just happened to be in. Well . . .whatever, I think you get the point of my boredom.

Every day seemed to hold the time of months- seemingly interminable. I continued to disregard anybody who came to see me. None of my friends showed up, which only slightly surprised me. Deep down, it hurt me like an internal paper cut- fresh and deep. However, no matter what hurt me I wouldn't express it- no, I would just turn more bitter.

The hospital staff rarely reacted to my…bitchiness in a manner that would be found offensive. They just smiled sadly at me and continued on what they were doing. All I could think about was how they could even act so indifferent? They acted like nothing I said bothered them- not even when I told this nerdy looking he-nurse that he should join a ballet with his scrubs. He just looked at me like I was something to take pity on. Like I was pathetic.

I was so sick of everybody looking at me with the same thing in their eyes-pity. I was not some damn charity case!

On Friday, I was listening to my I-pod Nano, half in and half out of consciousness. It was around four in the afternoon, and I was singing in a whisper along to what was perhaps the most over-played song to exist.

"Can we pretend that airplanes

In the night skyAre like shooting stars

I could really use a wish right now (wish right now, wish right now)

Can we pretend that airplanes

In the night sky

Are like _shooting_ stars

I could really use a wish right now (wish right now, _wish right now_)"

I sang softly along with Hayley Williams' voice. The words of 'Airplanes' by B.O.B. and Hayley Williams actually meant a lot to me. Although a bit overrated, it was so true. It had a deep meaning for me, even if it was a bit messed up. If I could have used a wish, I would have wished to go back…to make sure I had never went to the movies that night. To wish I would have never walked home alone…

On Friday, later in the evening, my doctor came in to tell me I could go home the next Thursday, just a few weeks after the attack. He said that my recovery was favorable, and that he was very happy with the results. That was all fine and dandy until he offered me the name to a mother fucking shrink. He almost sounded sincere when he gave me the number, but my reaction sure as hell wasn't as sincerely fake. Fucking ass _whole._

The whole rest of my stay was sort of pointless and annoying as I was bothered beyond common belief. Thursday was great…kind-of-sort-of. Well, I was able to go home. That was a good thing- the hospital was driving me insane. Also, apparently all my bruises were yellowed out. I had a red cast on my right arm, which had been fractured, and a deep cut along my right thigh but Doctor Turner had insisted it wouldn't be permanent. If it turned out to be, there would be hell to pay.

On the very, very negative side- there was my father. He hadn't visited me _once _during my stay -which I was kind of glad he didn't- but still! Perhaps he was embarrassed of me, or maybe even disgraced. Knowing my father, he probably thought I was a whore.

Living in a wealthy family is great, don't mistake my intentions, but there are some negative sides to the money. First of all, somebody has to work to earn the money. Or had to, rather, somewhere down the line. My family was no different- I was from old money, yes, but that didn't mean my parents weren't workaholics. My father was a lawyer- like the type a president would consider. As in, he probably charged thousands of dollars just to talk to him. From what I heard, though, he was damned good at what he did. My mother, on the other hand, was pretty much a business woman.

Another negative sign to having a well-known last name and being a part of a well-respected family was the standards. You always had to be perfect- because heaven's knows what would happen if you were human and screwed up. The woman would probably gossip and spread rumors like they were in high school again, which was completely uncalled for and utterly ridiculous.

It was on the way home when a bitter side of me sneered, _Won't be too comfortable when daddy's little girl was found naked after loosing her virginity? _I scowled out the window of my mother's car, sitting in the passenger's seat and glaring at the beautiful scenery that we sped past.

When we pulled up to our house, it was like déjà vu.

My house was one to envy- of course. It was large with a nice green yard, a wrap around porch which had a nice arrangement of flowers surrounding it. Most were roses or lilacs, but all looked beautiful in the arrangement. We had a circular driveway which was more like a loop because on end led to the garage which was larger than life. Kidding, but it was larger than your average house- complete with two levels. It had a picket fence surrounding the backyard, but the rest of the lawn was very open.

I looked over at my mother's beautiful face which seemed like it's normal determined expression. My eyes trailed from her pretty bluish grey eyes to her small nose, then to her thin lips that are pursed as if she is attempting to solve some equation or problem. Like that's anything new, though. I bit my lip as I feel the car stop, and my mother's hands fidget with the car's controls and keys for a moment before pulling the key out of the ignition. She looked at me and gave me a very unconvincing smile. "Welcome back home, Rosalie." She whispered before kissing my forehead. I didn't know how to respond so I just waited until she pulled away and got out of the car. When she did so, I just looked outside the driver's side window and stared at my own beautiful car two spots over, looking abandoned.

After what seemed like hours, I tore my eyes away from my beautiful BMW and opened the car door. I swung my feet so they touched the cement of the garage floor. I swiftly wobbled my way to the garage side door, and walked out of the garage. The stone walking path from the garage to my house wasn't really all that long, and soon I walked in to the back entrance to my house. The back door is actually sliding glass, and leads in to the kitchen. I ran my finger tips naughtily against the spotless glass, leaving a small but noticeable streak. I slid the door closed, biting my lip as I admired the all-to-familiar kitchen area.

Of course, the kitchen wasn't nearly as used as the bar in the basement was. Well, probably because the basement was the movie room, and was where my parent's just adored to go to spend quality time together late at night. Get drunk after work and screw. I probably wouldn't have ever found out if it weren't for finding a condom wrapper hanging out by the garbage. It both scarred me for life and let me know why the bar seemed to be their hot spot when nobody was over.

I can't say I blame them for their physical relationship though. My mother's drop dead gorgeous. Plus, isn't there all of those stories about how lawyers are known for hiring prostitutes or strippers? I rather know my father's tagging my mother's ass instead of some random whacko off the street. Although knowing that I'm awake and home, most times, while they're off 'watching movies' isn't always a comforting feeling. Nobodies _that _comfortable about their families sex life.

I smirked and walked slowly out of the kitchen to the other parts of my house. It was almost eerie- like some stupid scene in a horrible horror movie that everybody loves yet is totally overrated. I walked up the staircase carefully- and truth be told, a bit lazily as well. I was tired, and well- I missed my bed. I missed my bed like a fat kid misses a Hershey's store. I had been to one of those before when I went to New York City, but it was kind of boring.

I moved sluggishly up the stairs and took a deep breath when I hit the hallway. The strong scent of toasted cinnamon slammed harshly in to my nostrils- but dear god was the over powering smell delicious. My mouth practically watering,

I made my way down the dimly lit hallway, the scent become stronger. All my confusion went away when I spotted three large crimson candles on a stand, the flames eating the whicker in a hurry- keeping itself alive. I raised an eyebrow, studying the wonderfully candles. Around the middle of the largest one's glass exterior was a ribbon that sagged down a bit. I used my fingers to carefully tilted it up and read the design.

'**Turning Stone Casino and Resort', **I read. I raised my other eyebrow in confusion. Wasn't Turning Stone Casino is New York? I stared at the ribbon- I didn't remember my parents going to New York in the last few months. If my mother had gotten it before then, she would have lit it because we both adored the intoxicating scent.

Like a light bulb breaking -no, not going off, breaking- inside my head my eyes widened in shock. No, he wouldn't have. But that would have explained why….

Did my father really abandon me at the hospital to go live it up on the other side of the country? My hand flew off of the ribbon and my teeth forcefully ground together. What the hell did he do there? Did he cheat on my mom with a bunch of sluts? Did he gamble his money away? Or worse, did he pick up some liking of alcohol? Hell, he already loved alcohol.

I glared at the candle that was still letting off the addicting odor, and then the two smaller ones on the side of it. Against my will I felt a painfully hot tear trickle down my cheek, leaving the trail to feel cold in comparison after it fell off of my face.

In anger and shock, I blew the largest candle out with a rather blunt breath. I narrowed my eyes as I made my way further down the hallway, a few new tears making new soft pink trails down my face. When I made it to the very end of the hallway, I gave a gentle push to the last door on the left. I never really had to 'open' it, because unless you slammed it closed, my door didn't actually shut. I think it had something to do with the gears, perhaps?

I shook my head fiercely, walking slowly to my bed. I sighed, plopping down on my bed gracelessly , then pulled myself so I was laying down. I rolled over so I was laying on my stomach and held a pillow close to my body. I just laid there, letting the tears plummet off my face and onto my satin pillow case. My body began to violently shake as I cried. The first time I cried at home since I was fourteen, and I wanted to make damn sure it would be my last.

After a while I began to become tired, but I was …awaken by a hard knock on my door. After a few moments of composing myself I managed to mutter, "What?" While my face was still against the pillow.

"Rosalie," My mother's voice was unusually soft. I heard my door creak slightly, which meant she opened it.

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice gruff and my throat scratchy.

"Chief Swan just called,"

"Wh-why?"

"Rosalie, it's time for you to formally talk to him. He wants you to come down to see him. I told him you were available right now."

That got my attention.

"What?" I demanded, my head snapping back up as I looked at her like she had three heads.

My eyes must have given away that I had been crying because she looked saddened when she saw me, "Oh Rose…"She whispered, walking towards me, "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No." I snapped, my voice sounding much colder than I had intended it to sound. I whipped my pillow at the wall and sat up on the edge of my bed, glaring at the door with every intention of ignoring my mother.

"That's fine. Whenever you feel like talking about it-"

I rolled my eyes at her stupidity. "No, I'm not going." I amended.

"Rose."

My head whipped around to face her. Her face had her regular stern look about it- that was it. She had thought things had went back to normal. "No. Don't you fucking try to tell me different." Now it was her turn to look at me like I had three heads. I never swore at my parents. Ever. "I don't think you give a fuck about me," I accused through narrowed eyes. "I think you just care about what everybody thinks about _you_." I sneered. "How this comes back to bite you in the ass." I jabbed a finger in her direction. "How your reputation is effected." I hissed, standing up and my left arm rested against my hip- my right arm still held up, my finger pointing accusingly at her. "You selfish bitch!" I screamed at her, my eyes letting a few tears seep through unwillingly.

I excepted one of three things to happen. One possibility was her to scream at me. Another was her to hug me. The possibility I was most hoping for was her to just leave me alone. I didn't guess in my wildest dreams what she would have done.

She slapped me across the face so hard it left s stinging sensation. "Don't you dare accuse me of not caring about you, Rose. "She murmured. I, of course, was rendered speechless like a retard and just stared at her in shock.

Taking advantage of my emotion state, my mother grabbed my arm roughly and tugged me down the hall way (the middle candle was re-lit, I couldn't help but notice), down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into her car. Once in her car I crossed my arms and glared, once again out the stupid window.

That night was the first time I had told somebody my story. I told Chief Swan every detail that made me shudder. He was , this time, rendered speechless, and just looked at my with pity deep in his eyes. It felt great to get it off of my chest, but the pity felt like a slap in my face. I vowed that never again would anybody be told by my lips what had happened to me. The pity was almost as painful.

**A/N- Eh, close enough to the word count I wanted. Soo….who wants to see Emmett? I promise in the next chapter you will finally meet the Cullen's. **

**Oh, my genius brain came up with a new idea. Tell me what you think about the idea in your *review*. Okay, so starting now, whoever reviews to whatever chapter, when I post another chapter, I will PM you the chapter I'm posting in Emmett's POV! So, review and get the upcoming chapter in Emmett's Point of View as well? I think so =]]. I may make Emmett's POV into a story when I'm finished with this one, but that won't be for a very long time. So . . . review! **

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